A New Legion
by The StoryBook Tree
Summary: This is the Memoirs of a true hero of the Midwest.He lived in the Midwest when Caesars legion invaded the region and he lost his family to their tyrannical reign. He found an old pre-war library with an intact section on the Ancient Romans. This man's name is Maxxim. He used this knowledge to destroy Caesars rule in the area and found the largest republic in the wasteland.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys, this is my second attempt at a Fallout story and I noticed that nothing ever goes on in the Mid-West and Southern Midwest, so being an Oklahoma guy myself, thought I'd oblige. In Fallout, you hear nothing of the Midwest other than when a character in New Vegas mentions that Caesars Legion owns everything from Eastern Nevada to Colorado. I thought I'd use that as a base. This story will follow a man who grew up on the great planes and was there when the tyrannical Legion invaded and seized the area. You'll have to read more to find out more. Bethesda owns the rights to fallout and I own nothing Fallout's franchise may contain. Here's the Memoirs of the war hero Maxxim; Welcome to the Great Plains, Scavver.**

* * *

I Maxxim, am nearing the end of my days and the world grows heavy upon my shoulders. I choose to write these memoirs so that when I am dead, our history will not be forgotten. I founded the Republic from nothing but Hope, My love of Ancient Rome, and my sword and Shield. These memoirs will be a reminder of our greatest enemies that lurk in the East and West; those who would steal sovereignty from the Midwest Republic, and your freedom. A reminder that your greatest allies and friends may appear as people you never believed you'd associate with. A reminder that, In the end, all we have is eachother; So we must work together, for, if a man in a unit does not view the men all around him as brothers, how will the Testudo stand and protect? A reminder that,  
If you are righteous and fair, you will prosper; and if you are not, you will fail. A last testament to the fact that, this is our home and we must defend it from those who would take it.

I shall share my story with you, reader, so that you may have these reminders, or, if you are not of Mid-Western Blood, you may learn of our legacy and what makes us strong. If we hold to our creed and morals, our republic could last forever, if it bends and gives way to corruption; It will fall.

I was born in the forests near the old Joplin Ruins. Most of this area was destroyed by Fallout from the bombs, not the bombs themselves. Joplin was hit by smaller nuclear runs, as was Kansas city, Tulsa, Spring-field, little rock, Dallas ect. There are probably more but those are the only ruins I can think of right now. St. Louis and Oklahoma city were hit directly. Both more to make a statement, I'd assume, than to destory the nation. Ofcourse it did that anyway.

My family were traders. We'd take what we could find and put in containers we tied to our Brahmin. We had Ma-Siwangs but they were for riding more than packing. A Ma-Siwang is a tall four-legged creature with hooves. It has a long snout and no hair. It has different color skin based on the breed and they make this loud static-y "Neigh" noise. If you have access to books on the past, They're Ghoul Horses. No hair, rather ugly, and immune to radiation. They were named by the Chinese-American prisoners after the great war in the internment camps. There aren't many who can speak chinese today and those that can just use it as a code language with those who can. In spite of all this, using English to Chinese dictionairies and the word of the few people who can speak it, I'm positive that Ma-Siwang means "Death-Horse".

The Mid-West had the most Chinese-American prisoners before the war because it had the most open space. It was the best place to send them since they wanted to keep them away from major cities as not to arouse empathy from American citizens. So, they got every suspected Chinese immigrant and Chinese-Americans and trammed them off to constructed concentration camps for suspected communists and spies. But thats all history. It matters little since the bombs fell.

But I digress... Lets return to my life... I believe I was born around 2230, in the forests outside of the Joplin Ruins. My young life was rather uneventful.  
We traveled a lot, I was taught to read by my mother, who was one of the few people we met who could, we made a few extra caps when people would pay her fifty caps a session for her to teach them to read. The more ignorant, the more money. I never really had the time to make friends, we were always on the move. Not many Raiders messed with us because they owed favors to my father for something or another. The ones that did met the blade of my mothers combat knife.

My mother was a beautiful woman, long dark hair, night sky blue eyes, and she was thinner but muscular in her own right. She always wore leather dresses that didn't rip, tear, or get dirty as easy. But she created small incisions around the rim if she needed extra mobility. She had larger breasts which had its own advantages and disadvantages. Advantage meant she could conceal her knife easier. Disadvantage meant that she had to use her knife more because of Rapists. My father was a heavier built man with deep sea blue eyes and dark brown hair. He wore a long trenchcoat with knee high leather boots that got good traction and gripped his legs well. He had sculpted features, almost chiseled but not quite.

"Hello, travelers. You're moving through our territory." A man in metal armor with a gasmask approached us with an assault rifle while a girl in leather with a shotgun followed him and another person in atypical raider armor with a tubed leather bag over his head with a hunting rifle. They were all large and tough. The gas mask man started talking.

"We demand a tax as you're all trespassers. I'm not unreasonable. We demand a tax of 100 caps."

"Terrance?" My father asked. "I remember giving you stimpacs to saveyour sister who was shot in a fight."

"Doesn't matter now. She left to join New Americana. They actually accepted her is my surprise. But I still want that tax, Thomas."

"Those 3 stimpacs cost me 40 caps each. I feel my debt paid WITH interest."

He turned his safety off. I was hiding behind my mother who wore her leather clothes. She reached into her shirt and her hand was near her breasts. She hid her combat stealth knife between her breasts. Some Raiders expected an easy rape victim. They got their throats slit. But back to this scenario.

"Don't make this hard, Thomas."

"I'm not paying you, terrance."

"Fine." He looked down at me hiding behind my mothers legs. "Sheath would really appreciate him over caps." He smiled maliciously. I gripped tighter to my mother. My father looked at my mother and she looked back, something passed between them. My mother stepped forward and my father took me by the hand. I was terrified that I was going to be given away. We were about halfway there then my father reached into his trenchcoat and pulled something out and kept his hand on my shoulder. Then he threw an active fragmentation mine at the trio and yelled: "Start!". He grabbed me and turned around and hugged me to his chest.  
The raiders yelled in fear and there was a loud boom behind me and we went flying into the bushes. The Mine killed Terrance and left a cloud of smoke. My mother pulled her knife out that was about 6 inches longer than normal knives and lept through the smoke. She caught the shotgun girl by surprise and slit her throat in a single motion. The other man dropped his gun and bolted away.

"Oh, Fuck!" I'm not dying over this shit!" He yelled.

My mother got a smirk and tossed her knife in the air. She caught it by the tip of the blade and threw it at him. It rotated through the air and buried it deep into his skull. He collapsed immediately and convulsed. Then he stopped. My father got up with me and set me down. I started crying and after retrieving her knife,  
my mother returned and picked me up to comfort me. My father took his trench coat off and brushed the frags from it and inspected the ballistic weave padding on the inside. He walked over to the smoking, cut, and burned body parts that once called itself Terrance. He dug through the remains and scavenged what he could.

The assault rifle was fine and my father pulled rounds off him with the armor. "Poor Bastard... I wouldn't have killed him he didn't try to give my son to that pedophilic monster..." He muttered. It took 15 minutes to scavenge everything off the 3 corpses and pack it into the saddlebags on our Ma-Siwangs.  
My mother frowned. "He ran before I could leg-sweep him. I must be getting rusty."

"He WAS just a coward, dear. His gun trembled in his hand when Terrance turned his safety off. I don't think he's ever shot anyone. Probably thought being a big bad raider was just a way to make easy caps."

"And now he's dead." She studied the incision in his head. "Didn't reach the Cerebral cortex... Is motherhood making me soft?"

"You got him from the back, dear. You're doing fine." He went up and smooched her. Then they looted his corpse.

There were a few instances like this but everything has become a blur and what I can remember isn't worth mentioning. i'll skip to when the Legion invaded.  
But thats for another chapter. I promise more first person accounts, My childhood is just pretty hazy and I don't like remembering my parents... Just makes me think of their fates...

* * *

 **And thats a rap. Chapter 2 soon. I promise it'll pick up. I plan to take this somewhere big. Tell me what you think in the reviews!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys. I have little dialogue to share this time round. I will have more first person narration going on here. Last time round I was disappointed in myself on how short and uninteresting the chapter was. I hope to pick things up. Starting here.**

* * *

 _ **"The Humble suffer when the mighty disagree."**_  
 _ **-Phaedrus; 15BCE-50AD.**_

* * *

To say we were expecting someone like the legion would be a terrible lie that cost many lives. That is like saying that a mouse expected the Snake to snap it up. Caesars legion came over the Rocky Mountains in a wave of blood, terror and fire. Fire that quickly spread until it engulfed our homes. Tore our families apart, and ruined our lives... But in retrospect, I wouldn't be the man I am today if not for their tyranny.

The legion sacked the settlements closest to the mountains and occupied and annexed the settlements not too far off. People fought, oh yes, but it was never enough. Not a single settlement could fight an organized army like the army Caesar had. His forces enslaved, Raped, Pillaged, and occupied their way through all of the old Colorado and old New Mexico. The Plains weren't far at all... My family was trading in Wild City where the Plains started drying up and becoming a desert in the northern arm of the Old Lone Star State. I found a map later on calling it Texas. But that was as we knew of it at the time. We weren't ready for what would come... I was 13. Barely had hairs on my chest. Thats when fate met me head on and blindsided me. In Wild City in May, that was when my old life ended, and who I am today organized the funeral and lived on.

"Its hot outside, mama. Are you sure that theres no where we can go inside?" I complained in my deepened, mostly broken voice.

"Not yet, your father is still selling. Today is a good day for it. The Lone Star Rangers are buying as much Weapons, Armor, and Ammunition that we carry.  
Even all of the Radaway and Stimpacs are selling." My mother said happily.

"Why are people buying all of it?" I asked, perplexed.

"Because stupid people would rather waste peoples lives that settle a border dispute."

"Who are these people?"

"Some people from out west are supposedly coming into the area. The Rangers are waging war against them and they need supplies. They want to arm settlements that will be next and put ambushes and minefields where they think their armies will be moving. They must be moving very quickly for how many caps we've earned in the last week." She stated.

"But what happens if they catch us?" I asked, concerned.

"Well, we'll be on the road long before they get here based on the scouts last report. And the Rangers are doing everything to slow them down. It should be a while."

"Alright." I finished, satisfied.

How were we to know? That Caesar was the biggest risk taker of a general we knew of? How were we to know that he would have advanced with what he had?  
How were we to know?

We went to bed that night, 9000 caps richer and two thirds of our stock depleted. We planned on staying the next day and leaving. My father would sell what we had left and buy some more supplies when we reached frontier city up north where the war wasn't as much of an impending threat so weapons, ammo, and armor were significantly cheaper. Plus my father had caches dotting the wasteland by whatever route he was going to take. He had one up by the red river and it was on the way. We stayed the night at "The Gunslingers Cot". It was an old inn and bar that was a bit cheaper than "The Ammo Box" on the other side of Wild City. The Cot was built after the great war in the salloon style, piano, bar, and all. But they created a separate floor for the wenches to pursue their career,  
so they could rent out roms and the customers wouldn't be disturbed by them.

I liked the Cot. The Bartender sold watered down alcohol or used run-off beer so he could sell to children. It was cheaper, not nearly as alcoholic, and took away the risk of addiction. But according to patrons, it just didn't taste as good as a regular beer. My father was old friends with Michael, the Barkeep and owner so I got as much of the weaker beer as I wanted and he let me run around as long as I didn't make a regular nuisance of myself. It was the 8th night we'd stayed there and I was a hit with the patrons. I made a lot of friends and some of them let me sip their beer or taught me how to play various card games like: Mao, Egyptian Rat-Slap, Slap-jack, Bomber, Poker, Black-Jack, and Rad-effect. I shall spare the details of these games as that would take far too long but I might share in some added note after I'm done if it is of interest, but my favorite of all of them was, undoubtably, Mao.

The Man playing the Piano could also sing very well and wore the old fashioned striped outfit and required his round lensed glasses. His name was Clause. He spoke Spanish fluently and said that he came from somewhere in the desert of the old country of Mexico where they had a musical instrument school where you could apply as an apprentice. No charge, just that you apply yourself and help with whatever was required and that it was set up in some old mission.

Many Patrons came to hear him. Michael knew that, and thats why he paid him a bit more than the maids and Johnathan, who ran the bar when he slept. Clause said that one song he learned before he left the old country was a pre-war song called "Piano Man" by a man named Billy Joel. This was Clauses favorite song to play, and everyone came to listen when he did around 6 and 9 every evening. He went to bed at 10 to Midnight. Clause would let me up on his bench every day and do his best to show me how to play the piano. I found an old record of "Piano Man" many years later, and in my recollection, Clause sounded just like Billy Joel. It was almost an exact parallel. The only thing stopping this exact parallel was his slight spanish/mexican accent.

But this is all old memories, and stand fading agianst what happened that eigth night...

I think it was around 3 O'clock when the gunfire broke through the night air. Followed by shouting people and explosions. My mother jolted awake and my father followed. We stumbled out of bed and quickly packed our things. We ran down to the lower level with clause crouched behind an upturned table with his .44 in hand waiting for someone to come through the door. Many other late night patrons did this aswell. Michael and Johnathan ducked behind the bar, Johnathan with a hunting rifle and Michael with a combat rifle. My father pulled the plasma pistol he had in his trench coat out and ran up to the bar.

"Whats happening, Michael?" He shouted over the commotion.

"I don't know! But I think its the legion! No one else would dare try to launch an assault on the city unless they have a deathwish or a large, trained army!"  
Michael shouted back.

"The legion? How? I thought they were three days away at forced march?"

"Thats what I thought, too! If you want an idea on what might have happened, ask the rangers! They must have had some ambush force a few miles out! Thats just assumption!"

Then there were a lot of sharp whistles over-head and explosions. "My god..." My father said gravely. "They're launching mini-nukes! We need to leave, Now!"

Michael extended a hand. "Goodluck, Thomas. I'm not leaving, Wild ciity is my home and the Cot is my livelihood. Caesar or no Caesar. But stay safe. I hope to see you again, Whatever happens." Michael said to my father.

He shook Michaels outstreched hand. "Thank you, Michael. Do your best to stay safe, old friend." My father told him.

"I'll do my best. Now go, You can take my Ma-Siwang outside. The black one."

"I can never thank you enough, Michael."

"No need, consider it the repayment of an old debt."

With that, we ran outside and saw the bombs rainding down on the buildings. We ran up the street and went around a corner and found a Ranger that was running for the edge of the city.

"Whats going on!?" My father asked furitively.

"The legion set up an ambush force 'bout 10 miles out. They've got the entire city surrounded and built these big sling-shot like things that they're firing on us! Way I hear it, they've got reinforcements on the way for when they're gonna try to take the city!" He shouted over the explosions in his Southern accent.

"How can we get out?!" My father yelled.

"Eh..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "You could be able to follow the sewers out to where the river fills up the water drainage system. But the next entry intothe sewers is on the other side of the city!" He shouted. Then there was some noise emanating from the Walkie-Talkie at his belt. He unhooked it and listened. "Shit!" He shouted. "The reinforcements just arrived and they're mobilizing on the northwestern and western sides! Thats where the cover is!  
I'm sorry, sir, but I've got to go! They need every rangers gun on that front!" And then he shouldered a sniper rifle and started running west.

My father cursed. "What are we going to do, Thomas?" My mother asked.

"We're going to have to try to make it there. If we can't... we wait out the siege..." My father said gravely.

"Alright. I love you, Thomas."

"I love you, too. Come on Maxxim."

"Alright." I said.

And we ran. Around every corner. The louder the shouting and gunfire, the closer we were we figured. A few legionairs had already mad eit this far and they raised their guns to meet my father. They wore heavy armor made of metal and had some kind of bristles on their helmets. My father dispatched the two that were blocking our way with two swift shots from his plasma pistol to their heads. We looked up ahead. About half a mile ahead there was a large metal cover in the middle of the street. We all knew what it was. I just had a switchblade on me that I got because a Rad-Scorpion choked to death on it. Well...More like it got lodged in its mouth so it couldn't eat and it died of starvation. My mother considered that choking. But back to the battle.

We ran ahead as fast as we could, it was 10 meters from us... Then something happened that would change my life, forever. It must have been a stray bullet or something. But we were running then there was a quick buzz and my father fell to the ground after his head jolted back and he fell forward on his face...  
I remember this moment very clearly... There was ash on the wind and what I would call, the smell of death, burnt flesh, smoke, and radiation, then the road had ash and blood covering it and there were fires everywhere... Shouting and Gunfire filled my ears... I could hardly hear... I saw the plate and looked up to my father for reassurance. He looked down at me and half-smirked and nodded. Then he looked ahead and then his head jolted back and there was a blood geyser off of his face and he fell forward onto his face and slid for 6 feet... My mother screamed... It felt like slow motion... I screamed too...

We stopped at my father and he had been shot in the forehead by a stray bullet. My mother fell to her knees over his body and cried and I hugged her and weeped as well. But our grievences were interrupted by Rangers screaming at us to move and then being gunned down. The Legion men crowded the street and advanced forward...  
My mother grabbed me and we bolted into an alley and hid in an exposed cellar for alcohol. They were usually locked... But thank whatever god was watching over us, this one wasn't.

We waited hours in that cellar... We waited until the explosions and gunfire stopped. Then the shouting. Then the silence... the worst of all of them. We were almost certain that the legion had taken the city. But we needed to wait for things to cool down and the fighting to stop. The door was hard to lift,  
it was covered in rubble. My mother was strong though. Three hard punches kicked off any rubble on top. Then we slowly peeked out.  
The daylight blinded us. We saw the bodies of rangers and... My father... moved to the sides of the street. It was occupation time, not looting time.  
So we had a little time. But as the marching unit went down the street, we realized that the city was on lockdown. We needed a place to go... The Gunslingers Cot might still be standing. So we quietly left and snuck through every alley. The legion was breaking into peoples homes and carrying Men, Women, and Children out to be outfitted in chains.

I remember everything from here clearly. But I shall continue this and the occupation of Wild City in the next chapter...

* * *

 **Thanks for reading guys, I hope you liked it. If you like it, hit that favorite button and follow for more! Tell me your thoughts in the reviews and you can always private message me. Bye guys, see you next chapter!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys! Its me again! I've been involved in a musical and I'm having laptop issues but I'm back for a bit. I've been getting great feedback for this and my other stories. I'll get to work on those too. Anyway, here we go!**

* * *

 _ **"A bad beginning makes a bad ending."**_

 _ **~Euripedes;400BC-406BC**_

* * *

We slunk from Alley to crumbled, blackened alley. The soldiers were marching the people from their houses in a long line of chains. They'd load them onto carts pulled by Brahman. Some people fought them. They were kicked down to the dust and repeatedly kicked. Then the other soldiers forced the others to pick up the slack of their bleeding, unconscious form. But they never killed them. I didn't know why at the time. Now? Now I know its because slaves are no use dead. And it was better to kick their fight out before they were sold.

We had to take several detours and spent a few hours hiding in rubble as the last of the patrols for runners came by. We passed by a plaza with a fountain in it. There was a man in highly decorative steel armor with a banner draped over him that had a bull on it. Two officers stood behind him with that same banner on a pole.

Soldiers had lined up women on what I believed to be based on their attractiveness. The most beautiful captives lined up in front of the most highly decorated officer. This man was fit and muscular. He looked surprisingly young, Maybe his mid-twenties. He had black hair that was cut short and had deep brown eyes. He was clean-shaven and had chiseled features. He had a long scar running down his arm.

He had a malicious smile on his face as he paced the line of women on their knees. The officers stood without a shred of emotion on their faces at complete attention. The soldiers did the same but looked very nervous as they stood behind the women and held the chains. He paced up and down then stopped at a dark-skinned woman in the middle. She looked particularly angry. He inspected her.

"Hm..." He said. "She's lacking in breasts as they are smaller than some of the other women here but..." He peeked over her while a soldier struggled to hold her to the ground. "She makes up for it with her backside. And she does have a rather beautiful face..." He gripped her jaw using his right hand and examined her. She spit in his face. He calmly let go and smiled. The soldiers looked absolutely terrified and the officers took a sharp intake of air He calmly wiped the spit off of his cheek and kept his eyes closed as he faced the sky to bathe in the suns warmth with that grin on his face. The plaza seemed to freeze for a minute and there were no sounds except the warm breeze.

Then he started laughing. It was quiet and low at first then it got louder and louder until the entire plaza resonated with his booming laughter. Even the defiant girl seemed unnerved by this outburst. Then he started slowing his laughing and looked down at this girl. "I like her fight!" He shouted.

The officers gave a sigh of relief and the soldiers themselves nervously laughed. "Put her on the possible list. Take the rest to the nobles. They can be sold as expensive exclusives to them." He said to the soldiers. The soldiers saluted by thumping an arm on their chest and holding it there.

"Yes, General Jason!" They shouted back and forced the women onto their feet and pulled the chains to the south out of the plaza.  
The dark skinned woman was carried out of the plaza to the west, kicking and fighting in vain for freedom. The man named general Jason blew a white bone whistle he pulled from a pocket sewed into the folds of the banner. A massive man came up from the south. And I mean MASSIVE.  
He was over 7 feet tall and had rippling muscles. He had a long spear but instead of a point, it was a a double sided blade. He had a leather skirt that separated like an ancient warrior and he had a metal torso cast. He had a metal mask on of a bull and had that same banner draped over him but because of his bulk, it half draped and the other half was more of a scarf. His skin was tan. He wasn't a super-mutant but he looked like he could have killed one in a fist fight. A very, very one sided fist fight.

He had sandalons on and kicked up dust as he approached Jason. "Minotaur!" Jason shouted with happiness. "How goes the enslavement?" He asked.  
He towered over Jason as Jason was barely 6 feet.

His voice sounded monstrous and came out like an earthquake feels. It was deep and rumbled and sounded like a growl. "The captives have been gathered at the southern point. Groups of your selection will be released back into the city after the occupation is complete."

"Excellent! I shall report our success back to Caesar! He shall be able to use the city as a kick-starter north and east!" Jason exclaimed. Minotaur just growled.

"Are you in pain Minotaur?" Jason asked.

"I was putting down a ranger in power armor. I tore off his helmet but before I could cleave his skull, his wife buried a combat knife deep in my back. It has pierced my lung and has proven rather annoying. I cannot reach to remove it." He said in his growling tone.

"Ah, then let me remove it. Lean down." Minotaur obliged and sat on his calves. Jason went around to his back and found the knife. It was hilt deep in. Jason cringed but smiled at the same time. He grabbed the hilt and did a one, two, three count to himself then pulled the blade out. Minotaur didn't even cringe or start in pain.  
But me and my mother watched in horror as the stab wound healed over and was completely gone except for a scar in 15 seconds. Jason threw the knife to the side and called Minotaur to his side as he started south and whistled a cheery marching tune. Me and my mother darted across the street again and after a good 5 minutes we found ourselves at the cot. It was burnt and ransacked. All of the liquor was gone but the tables and piano remained. Clause layed in front of the piano. We presumed dead.

I went up to investigate with tears in my eyes. My mother went around the bar and pulled up a wooden board. Then she retrieved a .44 from its depths with a bag that had 17 rounds in it. I checked clauses pulse and it had stopped. He had 7 bullet holes in his chest. I listened for a beat then it miraculously started. He coughed up blood on me and took deep breaths quickly. His eyes f;uttered open and once he realized it was me he hugged me. He couldn't speak from shock but signaled that the bullets didn't hit anything important and he was tough. He licked his lips and wiped the blood from the with the back of his hand.

He got my help to stand and my mother was delighted to see him alive. Then a patrol passed and saw us.

My mother fired the first shot, it killed one of the soldiers on impact. Then another, grazing another as they were taking cover now. One rolled in a flash bang and it blinded me, I dropped clause and fell back to hit my head on a table. I

woke up knelled in front of Jason. Wrapped in chains. Clause was receiving attention from a battle medic with other wounded people in the battle. My mother was bound and gagged with the dark skinned woman from earlier guarded by soldiers behind Jason. Minotaur stood behind him intimidatingly.

"Your mother is a beautiful one, boy." He told me. I struggled but I couldn't move. The chains rattled. "I'll keep her for myself. But let me tell you a story."

I gave him a look of absolute hatred. "Once upon a time there was a boy. He lived in a small settlement and was happy. But when he drank their water and ate their cooked crops, he felt empty. He was taught how to be a farmer. But he loathed farming and never wanted to farm like his father. Then one night, his settlement was attacked by people called "Caesars Legion". That commander caught the boy and instead of making him a slave, he turned the boy out into the wild. A second chance at life.  
And 6 years later he returned to the Legions territory and joined up. He quickly rose in the ranks and became a general for their conquests. How can I deny a boy much like myself that opportunity of life? Thus I turn you free. Bask in my mercy. But don't bask too long or you'll have forfeited your freedom.

Minotaur came up behind me and snapped the chains with his bare hands. Then he unwrapped me and pointed to the vast wild wilderness behind me. It was so empty as dust blew in the wind and tumbleweeds ran by.

"Go." Jason commanded. I quickly came to the conclusion I was no use to these people enslaved or dead and I promised to free them one day. So I closed my eyes. I turned from them. Then I took a deep breath and took a step forward. I looked back at my mother and she was crying intensely. She nodded to me and forced a smile. My eyes teared up too and I started to cry. Then I looked back to the wilderness and ran. And I promised myself that would be the last time I'd run from monsters.

* * *

 **I hope you guys liked that Tell me what you thought in the reviews and Favorite and Follow if you like it! Thanks guys! See you next time.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys, its been a while and I'm sorry. I've got a lot of projects to do and with other parts of life I just end up tired and have little motivation to write.** **But i'll be doing it because I enjoy it and as an author, I live to please. I'll continue with our memoirs and ask you a question at the end.**

 ** _"It is your road, and yours alone. Others may walk it with you, but no one may walk it for you." -Rumi_**

* * *

I don't know how long I was out there in the wilderness. I thought I was going north. The great planes appeared and the tumbleweeds disappeared so I assumed I was going in the right direction. But when you're out there surviving in the wasteland... There is an animal in every one of us. When man fails to supply himself with sensible means, this great beast pushes mans mind down and crawls forth in is horror. This beast pushes man to eat one another in hunger situations and to fight beasts of much greater strength as equal or greater, and it is this beast that possess parents when their children face danger.

I managed to eventually find the red river and the towns that sprang up upon it. Somehow, the Red river became cleaner in the absence of man during the apocalypse. The people living on it fished and traded with each other by going up and down the river. You could drink the water but you could taste the earth and, even if it was cleaner, it would still turn you into a ghoul, even if after a longer period. This was a welcome sight to me. I hadn't seen water in two days days and I could feel myself withering inside and out. I ran to the shore and dunked my entire head in the water. I drank all i could in gulps and I swear, that was the best tasting drink I've ever had in my entire life. The only reason I pulled my head up to take a gulp of air. Thats when I noticed that I was next to 7 male and female rad-stags with their fawns. They were drinking and looking at me peculiarly. I returned their gaze. I then looked at my reflection in the water. I seemed 2 years older than I did when I set off. This concerned me a small bit in the back of my mind. Apparently I had been out there in the waste for two years. Too busy wandering to actually pick up an affinity for the land. I had dust, mud, and scratches covering my face and then I looked at my own body. It seemed that I had completely lost my clothes over the previous days. I was naked and covered in dried blood, mud, and dust.

I looked back to the rad-stags and then went back to drinking. The Stags did the same.

Interesting thing about Rad-stags. I've heard out east that Rad-stags have two heads and extra legs. But out here, a few hundred years of pure primal natural selection has breeded traits like that out. The ones out here are tough and tall. They have solid smoke grey, solid Jet black, or solid blood red eyes and, like the Ma-Siwangs, their heads look skeletal with burnt skin clinging to it and no cheeks. The males antlers grow out in strange and sometimes terrifying ways and they fight each other or ram trees to break them because they never stop growing. The females have strong legs for running... or trampling... When their young are threatened, those mamas will flatten you. The ballsiest of hunters will stick out a spear or bayonet towards a charging mother to bring her down. If it doesn't go through her heart, they still die, or wish she killed them.

Rad-stag hides out here are tough. Stack a few together and you've got some bulletproof armor. Relatively speaking. Nothings invincible. But back to my story.

I pulled myself out of the mud and stood up. The stags must have gotten a little antsy and started their young who'd sated their thirst back into the forest about 7 meters behind me. I realized how famished I was. I traded my switch for a canteen of water a few weeks back. I was seeing shit and I felt like the wind could blow me over so I reasoned living was better than the small protection that knife gave me. A wandering trader was kind enough to take me up on the conclusion for a canteen of water. It was worth the knife. Tasted like brahmin piss because he cleaned it with chlorine tablets but I didn't realize that until I'd hit the bottom of the canteen, 3 rationed days later.

I started walking through along the muddy bank towards what I believed to be a fishing town down the river. It was about a mile. A small distance. I saw some jackal-berries on my way. No matter how hungry I was, I'd never eat a jackal-berry. They're these little purple berries that once ingested, they give you terrible hallucinations and then you'll start laughing hysterically and convulsing violently until you hit your head or die of asphyxiation. You know those laughing noises Jackals make? Thats the kind of laughing you start to do 5 minutes before you die. Thus the name. The animals out here stay away from them so you can crush them and sprinkle the juice and pulp around your camp and most things will keep a respectable distance. You can also coat your skin in them and even terror birds and death-claws will find you too unappetizing to attack. I wasn't so starved I was going to shove some of those in my mouth.

The mud beneath my feet was cool, despite the searing heat. My peeled, burned, tanned body didn't notice that anymore. I stared at the ground, watching my feet leave prints in the mud. I was about a quarter mile from the town when I saw some fishermen out with their nets cast in the river. I started towards them and they noticed me coming towards them. I couldn't read their expressions but I think that it was shocked and confused. They staked their nets and watched me. I was about 7 meters from them when I fell to my knees. I bowed my head closed mt eyes. I exhaled deeply and couldn't help but feel a long journey was coming to an end. They yelled and ran towards me,  
if a little hesitantly. I fell forward into the mud and passed out.

I woke up in a small shack on a bed with a wooden frame with pelts and straw. There was a small table against the wall. I groggily came to and wondered how I'd gotten here. Then I remembered the fishermen and prayed that this had no connection to raiders. The door opened and I was too weak to bolt upright. A girl in rad-stag clothes walked in. She seemed to be a little older than me. Maybe by 2 or 3 years. Her skin was a lovely dark olive. She had sizable breasts and long hair that draped over her shoulders like long, black curtains.  
Her body was fit and her hips curved away from her to reveal strong, toned legs that the pelts covered like a long loin-cloth down to the middle of her thighs. She wore rad-stag moccasins. Her face seemed gentle but stern with medium lips and a small nose. Her eyes... I'll never forget them... They were a luscious earthy red like clay.

She was carrying a wooden bucket with a rag hanging out of it. "Look who's awake. That saves me the trouble." She set the bucket on the table.

"Who are you? Where am I?" I mustered out.

"You're in clay. And my name is Onyx." She said. "Vox and Lionel said you just showed up naked and dirty and collapsed. You're still naked and dirty but you're safe now. No bandasnatches near here. So tell me, who are you, and where are you from?" The girl who I'd just learned was Onyx put her hands on her hips and frowned.

"M-Maxim..." I choked out. "I don't know where I'm from. My parents were traders."

"And where are they now?" Onyx asked with an appeared feeling that she already knew the answer.

"Dead. Or ones dead and the other one probably wishing they were..."

"Raiders?" She asked.

"Worse..."

"Well, damn. It doesn't get much worse than raiders. What was it?"

"Some guys called "Caesars Legion". They're conquering a lot of land to the south. I've been running from them. I think for 2 years... I don't know..."

"Two whole fucking years?" She furrowed her eyebrows in concern.

I looked down at my naked form. Caked in dirt, sand, and surface scars. I sighed. I was exhausted.

"Well, as long as you behave yourself, you can stay here. We make a decent living for a small town and trade with the other settlements along the red river." She looked over to the bucket and then moved to my bed side. "Clean yourself up and go see the spinners. They'll have clothes for you, but not until you're clean. You stink like fish carcasses and look like deathclaw food. I'll be waiting outside if you need me." She then proceeded outside of the shack.

I spent some time cleaning myself up, it was hard as I had dirt and dried blood caking everywhere, including my privates. Which were extremely sensitive when all of the natural protection was removed. I wasn't squeaky clean but it was as clean as I had ever been, save the day I was born. I walked outside, slightly self conscious.

There was a tanner across from the building, on his wooden porch, pursuing his craft. I heard a blacksmith beating his hammer on metal in the background. 100 feet away was the red river, with people fishing and children playing on the bank. There were people moving about their daily lives. Down a path from my diverted one, there was a town square with salesmen screaming their products to the town. A tailor here, a baker there, a gunsmith alone, a man selling statues of clay and stone. Onyx walked around the corner of the building and looked me over. I blushed.

"Don't blush, you have nothing to be embarrassed about." She motioned to my toned torso and muscular lower parts. "Seems two years in the wastes did wonders for your complexion and... yeah... Well, the spinners are this way." I followed her into the square and walked past stores. There were other people, men and women, who scarcely wore more than me. Tribesman too who were covered in paint and wore varying degrees of clothing. There was a man who wore nothing but a yao-guai pelt. I decided to put him on my list of "people not to fuck with". She led me down a street, loose creek stones made up the road in this place. We walked past a two story building I made the assumption to be a brothel, with scarcely clad women with slightly exaggerated extremities seductively enticing men to stop by. One muscular, handsome man did the same to passing women. There was a woman with... larger bosoms and backside who was quite tan like she was from old India who caught my attention. She wore old linen bandages over her body to exaggerate her curves, she had a white smile and beautiful coffee eyes. I was enticed, "maybe another time" I whispered to myself. I was a teenager,  
my sexual prime, none could have expected me to be an abstinence crusader. In fact none I've ever met has been one.

Onyx led me to a store with an open window(no glass) and a shaded front porch. Clothes hung from the ceiling in sight of the window. We went inside and met elderly women who appeared quite friendly.

"Hello, Diana." Onyx said to the woman behind the counter inside. I looked around and there were clothes hanging from the ceiling and walls.

"Hello deary, who is your new friend?" the woman replied.

"This is Maxim. He's new around here and has a lack of clothing. I brought him here because I know you're the best in clay." She smiled.

The old woman smiled back. "You don't need to butter me up. Let me just get a look at him." She looked me up and down. I felt slightly violated. "Yes, radstag will work... Measurements...  
Yes, that should be right from the proportions. She went into a back room behind the counter and came back a moment later with 7 radstag shirts, pants, and sewn linen bandage underwear. "Will these do?"

"Yes, these will do fine." Onyx said, examining them. "How about 14 bass in return?"

"No, onyx. You can just have them. Radstag is out of style, we were just going to burn them, but this will put them to good use."

"Thank you so much, Diana!"

"Don't mention it. I'm glad to help. And I appreciate the eye candy at times." She chuckled.

I blushed severely and Onyx burst out laughing.

We left and I clothed as soon as possible. We meandered about and she showed me the sights of Clay. It was thriving. This is what humanity built from absolutely nothing.  
Now that's determination. That is glorious.

I said to myself, I think I can make a home here. So I did, for 4 years. You may turn your back on the past, but the past never turns its back on you.


End file.
